Girl Talk
by Explosion-Of-Colour
Summary: He figured a mix of Gillian's 'psychiatrist voodoo and girly crap' would help the situation. Ever the charmer, Gillian mused fondly.
1. Chapter 1

**This was supposed to be a little oneshot but promptly spawned into a longer fic so I've split it in two - next chap up in a few days. Not written for this fandom before so please tell me if I've got the characters right :o) **

"Gillian, hey." Emily Lightman greeted as she opened the front door, meeting her father's business partner's sympathetic blue gaze with confusion.

"Hey, Emily, you doing okay?"

Still looking confused, the younger woman opened the door wider, letting the warm yellow light from the hallway spill out into the evening darkness. "Dad's not here-"

"He didn't tell you I was coming?" Gillian asked, mild amusement creeping into her voice as she realized she probably should have anticipated that from Cal.

"No, just said he wouldn't be long - and something about pizza if I'm good. I swear he thinks I'm still eight years old." Emily replied with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. She stepped back, gesturing to Gillian to come in.

Gillian shot her a sympathetic smile, raising a comforting hand to the teenagers shoulder. "He's just a little overprotective. He loves you."

"I know, Dad's just being Dad about the whole thing with Dan, you know?" Emily replied with a sigh, a little sadness creeping in to her expression.

Making their way into Cal's nicely-sized kitchen, Gillian set her bag down on the nearest chair, shedding her leather jacket and placing it around the same chair-back. Taking a moment to debate the best way to broach the topic of Emily's boyfriend, Gillian watched as Emily busied herself making coffee. "Was it your decision, if you don't mind me asking?"

Emily didn't answer right away, almost prompting Gillian to apologize for asking, assuming it wasn't something she wanted to share. Finally the teenager turned to her, flashes of anxiety and trepidation alternating over her features. "It was my decision - don't tell Dad that though."

Intrigued and a little worried at her words, Gillian asked in a soft voice: "You want your father to think Dan broke up with you?"

"I -" Emily started, then sighed again, scrubbing her hands over her face in frustration. "You promise not to tell Dad if I tell you what happened?"

"Emily, if you're in trouble-" Gillian cautioned, alarmed that the teenager might be hiding something she hadn't wanted her parents to know.

"No, no, nothing like that. Just promise, okay?"

Recognizing her need for a confidant, Gillian agreed reluctantly, hoping she wouldn't need to break the teenager's trust by telling her father when he returned.

"Dan, he was kind of... he suddenly decided that we should... because we've been together for a while and..." Emily explained vaguely, obviously unsure how to voice what she wanted to explain.

"He was trying to have sex with you?"

Emily nodded in response, relief becoming the dominant emotion on her pretty face due to - Gillian guessed - not having to find the awkward words after all. "Yeah"

Somewhat relieved, but still concerned she wasn't telling her the whole truth, Gillian moved towards the teenager to place a consoling hand on her shoulder. "But you're okay? He didn't try-"

"No, just trying to talk me into it, you know? I thought he wasn't like that, but then he started saying all this stuff about how all my friends are doing it and -"

Gillian pulled the younger woman into her arms, sensing the concealed distress without needing to see a tell in her expression. Murmuring comforting words to her, Gillian ran a hand over Emily's long curls, almost wishing Zoe wasn't away on business for her daughter's sake.

"I'm just not ready - I know I'm not. But I just..."

"I know, honey. You did the right thing. He doesn't deserve you, putting pressure on you like that. Remember that, okay?"

Emily nodded, making no move from the older woman's consoling embrace.

"How about we have some ice cream and you can tell me what a jerk this Dan is?" Gillian ventured with an encouraging smile, pleased when Emily shot her a watery smirk in return.

"Thanks, Gillian." Emily told her sincerely, swiping at a few stray tears marring her features.

"Anytime, sweetheart." Gillian smiled, following the younger woman's lead by taking over making the coffee, while Emily busied herself finding ice cream in her father's somewhat limited food supplies. The tension in the air had dissipated considerably; armed with their dishes and mugs the pair made their way through to the living room. Large grey leather sofas lined three walls, the fourth consisting of a large fireplace with a big flat-screen attached to the wall in the space above. Emily took a seat in the armchair next to the large window overlooking the street and driveway, leaving Gillian to curl into one side of the two seater opposite the fireplace. Taking the opportunity to study her partner's daughter as she enjoyed her raspberry-swirl ice cream, comparing her mannerisms to Cal with amusement.

"So, who's this friend of your Dad's he's had to go see all of a sudden?" Gillian asked, curiosity over Cal's mystery friend resurfacing now Emily's drama seemed to have been quelled somewhat.

When her partner had called earlier in the evening to ask a favor, she'd been surprised when he explained a friend of his had arrived unexpectedly from Europe. He hadn't wanted Emily to be alone after coming home in tears following her breakup with Dan that morning, and he figured a mix of Gillian's 'psychiatrist voodoo and girly crap' would help the situation. Ever the charmer, Gillian mused fondly.

Emily smiled in response, and Gillian was surprised to detect a little mischief there. "Yeah, old friend from England he said."

It was a lie. Why on Earth was she lying?

None of my business, Gillian decided, resolute in letting the lie slide. At least she knew this friend was male. She wasn't above admitting she'd be prying quite a bit more if Cal had mentioned meeting some mysterious old girlfriend from England.

Emily's smile had morphed into a full grin when she spoke again. "I know you know I'm lying."

Gillian laughed in surprise, setting her empty bowl down on the coffee table. "You're your father's daughter, Em."

"He told me not to tell you, that's why I can't say. But its nothing bad, honest."

Curiosity waged war against suspicion in Gillian's mind as she studied the mischievous grin Emily was currently sporting, trying to decide if it was worth interrogating the teenager for answers she was pretty sure she'd be able to extract from her father when he finally returned. Deciding it'd be better to keep Emily talking about her now-ex boyfriend seemed like the better option, just to double check there wasn't anything more than teenage drama to the story.

***

Less than half an hour later, their comfortable conversation was interrupted by the front door opening, announcing Cal's arrival.

"Is it safe to come in?" He voice called from the hallway.

Gillian shot Emily a smile at her partner's antics, who rolled her eyes dramatically. "So long as you have pizza, Dad!"

There was no answer, then a large pizza box slowly became visible in mid-air from around the door. Emily immediately jumped up from her seat, grabbing the box balanced on Cal's hand on her beeline to the kitchen. Cal finally entered the room, clad in a Rugby shirt and dark jeans and chuckling at is daughter as he took the space next to Gillian. He took a minute to study her, but making no effort to hide it.

"You alright, love?" He asked with concern, placing his hand on her ankle where she'd curled her long legs under her, stockinged feet bare of the heels she'd slipped off and set at the side of the couch a good ten minutes ago. Cal's living room was just too easy to get comfortable in.

Gillian nodded in response, enjoying his proximity due to the two-seater couch, taking the chance to study his unusually casual attire while she sipped the last of her now luke-warm coffee. "Did you manage to see your friend?"

Cal's smile became wider at her question, his long fingers creating a warm circle around her right ankle prompting Gillian to almost forget what she'd just asked.

"Who wants pizza?" Emily suddenly all but bounced back into the room, setting down the pizza box and two dinner plates atop of the coffee table. "I going to go upstairs, leave you two..."

"Em," Cal's warning tone was clear as he shot a glare at his daughter.

"Anyway," she started, pointedly returning her father's glare. "Thanks for tonight, Gillian." Then to both adults' surprise, she threw her arms around Gillian in a hug.

"That's okay, sweetie. Anytime." Anyone other than Cal wouldn't have noticed the stunned tone of her voice, her breath hitching slightly at the affection the younger woman expressed.

Emily shot her another grateful smile as she pulled away, then disappeared from the room once more, the sound of footsteps on the stairs confirming that the Lightman Group partners were indeed alone downstairs. Cal, whose left hand was still grasping her leg, had progressed to softly running his thumb over her ankle bone, looking to Gillian for an explanation of what he'd missed in his absence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: Thank you all so much for the feedback for the first half - This is a one shot (split in two) but I'm going to take a leaf out of the Mentalist fandom and do a few more random one-shots that would take into account what happened in this fic - does that make sense? Anyways, enjoy :o)**

When Gillian didn't offer an explanation, choosing to keep Emily's confidence after she'd trusted her, Cal smirked, glad he knew her well enough to know that she'd pass on anything he should be worried about when it came to his daughter. "So you've worked your psychiatrist voodoo on my daughter, have you?"

"No Cal, we just talked." Gillian smiled beautifully at him, loathe to admit she enjoyed his teasing over her profession - in the right situation at least.

"Girl talk. I think that might be even worse." Cal responded dramatically, only to be rewarded with a lighthearted thump in the chest.

Laying her hand against the thick fabric of his red rugby shirt, Gillian looked seriously into his blue eyes. "You have a very sensible daughter there, Cal. She's just a little hurt at the moment. Everything's magnified when you're in high school; all she needs is some time to get over him."

"All she would tell me was that they'd split, then clammed up."

"She'll talk to you when she'd ready. Sometimes its just easier to talk to a woman about this stuff." She assured him, moving her hand up to the collar of his shirt absently.

"Well I'm glad you could come over, love. Just what Em needed." Reluctantly moving forward, Cal watched as first her hand then her gaze dropped to the couch, as though his movement made her realize what her hand had been doing of its own volition. Dishing out a couple of slices from the forgotten pizza box, he handed her a plate, idly wondering if she'd eaten already. Smiling her thanks for the delicious-smelling food, she balanced it on her folded knees and absently pulled at the hem of her knee-length skirt.

"Mmm, good." Cal murmured around a mouthful, shifting his midnight-blue eyes thoughtfully on her while he ate.

Several minutes passed before Gillian looked up from her musing to register him studying her again. "What?" She asked nervously, lifting a hand to her lips self-consciously.

"Nah, nothing. Just admiring these wacky colors you wear nowadays." He smirked, his British accent thickening slightly as his voice lowered to an almost seductive level.

"Lilac, Cal. Not wacky." She shot back, not quite hiding the pleased expression that flickered over her pretty face fast enough.

"It was a compliment, love. " Cal assured her, setting his finished with plate down on the carpet and placing his large hand down to grasp her ankle again.

"So, are you going to tell me who this mystery friend is?"

"Wasn't planning to."

She tilted her head to one side in the classic Gillian Foster glare. "Cal -"

"Nothing for you to worry yourself over, love," he replied, amused by the sudden suspicion that appeared by the narrowing of her eyebrows.

"Cal, was this an excuse to get me out of the house?"

Cal grinned, torn between admiration at her perceptiveness and defending himself against her accusation. "Couldn't possibly comment."

"You used Emily's situation to get me over here... so I wouldn't be alone in my house all night?" Gillian asked, her voice softening with surprise.

Cal's heart couldn't ignore that tone. The vulnerability of that particular expression of hers was always his undoing; if she had any idea of the power she had over him sometimes he'd be done for. The woman shouldn't be so damn beautiful all the time, at least then he could ignore the feelings that had been bubbling ever-closer to the surface of his consciousness for what seemed like forever. "Figured you spend enough nights home by yourself, love."

She smiled, sapphire eyes a little watery and before Cal knew what was happening Gillian was pressing so-soft lips against his own in a short peck. "You're an evil man, Cal Lightman, but thank you. I needed this."

"Good," he replied, struck dumb by the unexpected albeit chaste kiss he'd received moments earlier. Emboldened by Gillian's affection, he moved the hand settled on her ankle across her skin at the back of her calf, vaguely aware of his sudden dislike for stockings that acted as a barrier between his questing fingers and her bare skin. He looked up to find her watching him in surprise, though the was definitely a hint of lust in her clear blue eyes.

"Cal -"

The anxious tone and her contradicting expression were all he needed to convince him the urge to kiss her would be a welcome one, closing the distance between them in a second. She tasted like coffee and chocolate heaven, tiny and delicate beneath his hands as roamed her waistline and up her back. He was dimly aware of the front of his shirt being grasped just over his heart, at the same time he registered the cool silk of her shirt beneath his own hands. She made a small, urgent noise in the back of her throat, prompting him to deepen their kiss. One hand finished its exploration of her back and shifted around to her front, finding the hem of her shirt. As he flattened his hand against her toned stomach, bare skin against his warm hand, Cal was jolted out of the moment when she flinched at the contact.

Instantly concerned, he pulled back from her, trying desperately to ignore the sexy bedroom eyes she shot him in surprise at his sudden halt.

"Gillian -" he panted, trying to haul his libido back under control and find out what just happened.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." Gillian took a steadying breath, raising both hands to her flushed cheeks. Cal's worry increased further, his mind running through the evening for signs he'd missed something, clues to what might have caused her to flinch against him. The self-recrimination must have shown in his face because she raised a gentle hand to his face before explaining: "I just... I haven't been with anyone else in... in a long time."

Breathing a mental sigh of relief, he ran a protective hand over her hair. "That's alright, love. I didn't mean to pounce -" He shot her a lighthearted smile, hoping he hadn't completely misinterpreted how she felt due to his own long-term feelings blinding him.

Gillian smiled sweetly, seemly enjoying his hand in her hair. "You didn't."

It wasn't a lie, but her features portrayed a sickening mix of pretty well concealed panic and fear. Keeping his gaze locked on her pretty face, Cal pulled his hand back, registering the flash of hurt that crossed her eyebrows.

"I think I should go."

"You sure, love? Don't want another coffee?"

She smiled at him, a sincere smile, putting Cal at least a little more at ease. "I won't sleep if I have another."

But that was a lie. Fairly well hidden, but he guessed she just wanted to leave. Probably for the best, he didn't trust himself not to do something  
stupid if she stayed any longer.

Holding her jacket out for her to slip her arms into like the perfect gentleman, he didn't try to fill the somewhat awkward silence. Gillian was avoiding even meeting his eyes, intent on the process of gathering what little she'd brought with her. Holding the front door open for her, he followed her out to escort her to her silver Lexus, even though it was only parked a little ways down the street. Cal would never admit it, but he loathed the thought of Gillian being out alone at night after what happened with the Jenkins copycat a year ago.

Stopping and turning to him all of a sudden, Gillian's brows narrowed in suspicion. "This friend of yours doesn't exist, does he?"

Trying not to notice that her rosy lips were still a little swollen from their passionate embrace, Cal pasted an innocent expression on his face. "Suspicion is an ugly thing, Foster."

Triumph graced her features and a joyful smile spread her mouth. "I knew it! Cal, you manipulative bastard."

Feigning hurt, he leaned back against the bonnet of her treasured Lexus, folding his arms across his chest. "I try."

Gillian laughed. "Thanks, Cal. It means a lot that you'd contrive a whole nonexistent friend just to get me over here."

"Nah, love, you did Emily a lot of good tonight. Barely said a word before I left and an hour of your psychoanalyst thing sorts her right out."

"She just needed to talk, Cal. She'll be fine in a little while."

"Anything I should know?"

Gillian shook her head no.

"Girl talk really works then, huh?"

She smiled, placing a hand on his chest. "Sometimes. Thanks for getting me out of my place tonight, Cal. I didn't realize how much I needed it." A little reluctant, she moved forward, slipping her arms around him in a hug.

"Glad I could help, love." Cal replied, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head as he breathed in the scent of her flowery shampoo.

"And we'll talk about this," she gestured between them with her hand, "about what happened?"

"Yeah, we will." He shot her a genuine smile, running a hand over her silken caramel tresses before letting go of her.

Holding the driver's door open for her, she slid in behind the wheel, tossing her bag on the passenger seat.

"Goodnight, Cal. "Gillian told him warmly.

"Night, love." Returning her hopeful smile, he closed her door after her as she started the engine, raising his left hand in a wave. Rewarded with  
a final smile, Cal watched as she maneuvered the car away from the curb, and to the end of the street.

He was stood there long after the Lexus has disappeared from view, well aware that any chance of sleeping that night had left with his partner.


End file.
